The Masters' Chronicles 010- Little Wolf
by Fainmaca
Summary: Liva, a Princess of Redania, finds herself the victim of some puzzling and terrifying circumstances. Based on the characters and Lore of the Witcher School LARP in Poland. Spoilers for the first episode of the International Seasons.


Music echoed from the walls of the grand ballroom, a gentle waltz. Low flutes mixed with sonorous strings as the musicians, some of the finest the continent had to offer, serenaded the gathering, a collection of some of the most influential figures in all the land. The gathered nobles, merchants and military men danced a slow dance together, twirling elegant circles on the elaborate mosaic that showed the silver eagle of Redania. Watching over it all, King Radovid and his queen observed every move.

To one side, a small figure remained alone, detached from the crowd. Her emerald eyes watched the dance, reading every movement. She'd seen dozens such events before, possibly hundreds, although always from a distance. Such was the lot of a bastard child like her.

Clad in a simple but finely made red velvet dress, Princess Liva of Redania, illegitimate child of the King and somewhat scorned figure in the public eye, was a slight, unimposing figure. A cascade of fiery red hair tumbled down across her shoulders, framing her soft, pale features. Gentle eyes twinkled with kindness, but also sadness. Lips painted scarlet were pressed together in a straight line, a slight, sorrowful downwards turn at their corners.

Life was not easy for the young woman. Strictly speaking, she had no place at the palace, no rights, no title, no future. She'd been beloved once, treasured by nobles and common folk alike. Until her father had remarried. Her new step-mother had been quick to assume control over the palace and the court, planting venomous seeds in the ears of noble and commoner alike to isolate Liva, brand her as a shameful spot on the royal family's reputation. Even the princess' father had been influenced by the poisoned words, growing more and more distant with each passing day. Now, she endured the bitter resentment of her step-mother the queen, the sideways glances of the other nobles at court, and the isolation that one of her position would normally expect.

Liva's trials had only grown more intense following the birth of her half-brother, the new prince and heir to the crown. The queen, keen to secure that only her blood could stand to inherit the throne, began a crusade to destroy what little the young princess, a girl less than a third of her age, had left. To take away every privilege and freedom that had previously been open to her. It had been only because of the King's lingering attachment that she remained at the palace, attachment that only served to enrage the queen further. Liva found herself wondering with each day what new scheme her step-mother might be hatching to get rid of her. Still, it was far better than the alternative- abandoned and alone on the streets of Tretogor, often a death sentence for a child.

She shrugged, banishing the sorrowful thoughts from her mind as she turned her eyes back to the ballroom and its inhabitants, watching the great dance of intrigue that was unfolding before her. She'd spent enough time around the nobles of the land, the barons and dukes and merchants with visions of establishing a noble house of their own, to understand that far more was going on than was immediately visible. Every nod, every smile, meant something in the deep intrigues of the court. Whether a baron's daughter chose to dance with the silk merchant or the war veteran could have far-reaching consequences for her family for years to come. Which young lass a duke chose to court for the evening, or even just for a single drink, could forge or break generations-long alliances.

Normally, such intrigues didn't interest the young princess, given how her entire existence, her whole life, was a statement of the nature of the system, but she had to admit that at least on a simple level, watching the elaborate political machine unfold was a fascinating process. She watched as Villem, the son of the mayor of Rinde, approached one of the daughters of Hans Eckleberg, a merchant of some renown. After a brief exchange, the young beau was rebuffed, turning away with a slightly red expression. Liva could see the whispering among the nobles at the interaction, the young lad losing face while the girl was elevated.

"Ah, Liva. There you are."

The sudden voice at her side snapped the princess out of her thoughts, turning to see a familiar figure drawing close. Lady Philippa Eilhart, one of her father's closest and most trusted advisors, a powerful sorceress and an even more powerful political figure. She'd been a near constant presence in Liva's life, teaching her the rules of etiquette, lecturing her on the political comings and goings of her father's nation, and so on. All the tools she'd need to survive in the world she found herself stepping into. More importantly, the sorceress' attitude towards her had remained unchanged after her half-brother's birth. No matter what Liva's step-mother did to twist public opinion against the young princess, Lady Eilhart's interest and apparent commitment to Liva's wellfare remained constant. In a way, Philippa was the strongest and closest female presence the young princess had ever known, her step-mother far more resentful and hostile.

Now, the fair-haired sorceress stood before her, presenting a man she had never met before. He was tall, but not exceptionally so. His shoulders hunched, his back slumped a little, as though from an old wound. His features were gentle, but weathered, with deep wrinkles around his mouth, nostrils and eyes. Dark whiskers speckled through with flecks of grey sprouted from his upper lip, a pronounced moustache. He leaned on a cane, although it was clearly more a stylistic choice than something he actually needed. He smiled as Philippa gestured towards him.

"I don't believe that you have been introduced. This is Duke Elgis of Praviburg. He was most recently elevated to his station after his actions during the White Rose Rebellions, and this is his first time visiting the capital since his tour of duty." The sorceress turned a pointed glance towards the young woman. "He was most interested in meeting you, Liva."

"A true honour and a pleasure, my lady." The Duke bowed graciously. "I had heard rumours of your beauty, but I see now that the hearsay does not do you justice."

"You're most kind, Lord Elgis." The princess replied stiffly, curious why Lady Eilhart was engineering this meeting.

Liva curtseyed, a gesture she always felt a little clumsy with, before proffering her hand. The Duke bent to place his lips on the back of her hand, his moustache scratching at her skin fiercely. She suppressed a shudder at the prickling sensation. She turned, spotting Philippa watching the pair with sharp, unreadable eyes.

"So tell me, Lord Elgis, what do you make of Tretogor?"

"A truly wonderful city, my lady." The Duke smiled."although a little large for my tastes. Too many people, too much noise. I prefer the peace of the countryside."

"Praviburg is one of our more northern provinces, yes?" Liva saw Philippa nodding her approval behind the Duke's shoulder.

"Ah, yes." Elgis seemed to swell with pride. "Perhaps not the wealthiest part of your father's nation, but full of proud Redanians, and growing fast! One of our border towns, a place called Boggevrieg, was a key stronghold in the war. Why the stories I could tell you about how we made those damn knife-ears pay-"

A quiet but insistent cough at his elbow halted the Duke mid-sentence. He glanced to Philippa, who shook her head just a fraction, enough to arrest his entire train of thought. Liva felt a swell of gratitude towards the sorceress. If she had to sit through another commander reliving his war stories…

"Of course, these tales can wait." The Duke was momentarily flustered, but quickly recovered. "Actually, I had brought a gift for you, my lady."

"A gift?" Liva's brow rose, her curiosity piqued. It was rare for anyone to bring something to present to her. "How kind!"

"Please, follow me." The Duke offered his arm, which Liva accepted after only a moment's hesitation. With Lady Eilhart in tow, they quickly slipped away from the banquet.

~o~0~o~

The horse chuffed quietly in her stall, her chestnut brown hide glistening even in the darkness of the night. The creature looked at Liva with eyes that shone with intelligence, a deep black stare that conveyed kindness, a gentle nature. She tossed her straw-coloured mane, snuffling a little as she stretched her neck towards the trough in front of her. Black hooves stamped on the straw and flagstones beneath her.

Liva was entranced. Of course, she'd seen many horses growing up, her father boasting the largest collection in the land, but she'd never had one of her own, only ever riding one once or twice during her childhood, and then mostly forced to watch her father depart on hunts from afar. Even from her small experience, the young princess could tell that this was an exceptional steed, a prime example of her species. With a wary hand, Liva reached up to caress the mare's snout, the beast pressing into the touch eagerly. The princess smiled, scratching at the horse's nose before reaching around to stroke her jaw. Although nowhere near the largest of her breed, the mare still towered over the young woman, but lowered her head, eager for the affection. Liva let out an awe-struck sigh.

"She's beautiful." She breathed.

"The finest from my stables." The Duke swelled proudly. "Her father served me well during the war, and her mother is one of the healthiest breeders we have. They've given us many fine steeds to serve in your father's stables."

"This… this is too much." Liva stepped back, a little hesitant. "Forgive me, Lord Elgis. It is a beautiful gesture, but the value of her alone must be-"

"Please, let us not get bogged down with talk of coin." Elgis waved a hand dismissively. "It is but a small indication of what I can provide."

"Provide?" Liva felt a spark of anxiety in her chest.

"Well… of course." The Duke shrugged. "As your future husband, I feel like I should be able to-"

Liva's head spun at the words, a sudden dizziness overcoming her as she staggered back from the Duke. Tightness seized her chest. As her vision began to waver, she glanced behind the Duke to see Philippa, a frustrated frown on her face as she quietly pushed the older man aside.

"What Lord Elgis means to say, my dear, is that-"

She never got to finish her explanation, Liva quickly bolting past her, past the Duke, and out into the darkness of the night, racing across the cobblestones of the palace's courtyard as quickly as she could. Behind her, she heard the sorceress sternly chiding the Duke for being 'premature'. It mattered not to the young woman, scurrying back to the safety of her father's palace. She needed to get away. Away from the Duke, away from the Sorceress, away from the 'gift', which she now realised was intended as some kind of choked her throat as she thankfully managed to avoid any other attendees of the ball, scurrying back to her chambers, where she locked and barred the door behind herself before collapsing on her bed, her mind still wheeling as she processed the night's events.

~o~0~o~

"Marriage?!"

Liva's incredulous question echoed from the high ceiling of the library, losing some of its power as the hundreds of thick tomes absorbed her high-pitched words.

Three figures faced her, seemingly unmoved by the princess' irate confusion. Her step-mother, cradling the young prince to her bosom, covered the young babe's ears protectively, exuding the air of a mother concerned for the safety of a child. Liva had long ago learned that this was an elaborate act, to elicit sympathy and kindness from those around her. The toddler had quickly become a tool in her arsenal to protect herself. She glowered at the princess through heavily painted eyes.

Behind the queen, Philippa watched the exchange with cautious eyes. Her expression was still, utterly unreadable, as she folded her hands behind her back. Beyond her, Liva's own father turned away, glaring down at a desk strewn with maps, pieces of correspondence, and a single inkwell and quill. His hunched shoulders were tight, even as he refused to turn around and look at his daughter. Behind him, through the large, clear windows, the darkening evening showed the last few scraps of orange light from the setting sun, while a bloated white moon rose above the horizon.

All was silent for a long moment. Finally, the queen was the first one to speak up.

"It's a fine match. Lord Elgis is a war hero, beloved by his people, and-"

"And his lands are as far away from here as possible?" Liva interrupted sharply. Her step-mother's teeth flashed for just a moment at her words, before the fierce expression faded.

"I couldn't possibly know what you mean by that." She levelled her voice. "The recommendation comes from Lady Philippa herself. She speaks very highly of the Duke's achievements."

"Lord Elgis has been a long-time friend of mine." Philippa supplemented. "A good, loyal man who has served your father for many decades."

"That's part of the problem- decades!" Liva's tone grew more exasperated. How could they not see the problem? "He's at least four times my age! Father, you would marry off your fourteen-year old daughter like this?"

"Bastard daughter." The queen quickly interjected, icy venom in her words. "Don't forget your place, Liva. This is a far better opportunity than most in your position would receive. And besides, Princess Calanthe of Kovir was wed on her eleventh birthday. Her union with King Venemund cemented an alliance that protected her people through the Northern War of Ten Twenty-Three."

"And she died in childbirth at sixteen!" Liva looked to her father's back again, her eyes pleading even as he refused to turn around. "Father, please…"

"Your father and I discussed this at great length." The queen sniffed as she raised her head just a fraction, glancing down along her nose at the princess. "This match will secure the loyalty of our northern territories, and help protect the peace the crown has fought so hard to attain. This is for the good of the kingdom. I wouldn't expect a child to understand."

"Oh, I understand a lot more than you know, you-" Liva's chest swelled as she readied herself to release a vitriolic retort.

The sound of the gloved fist slamming into the heavy oak desk snapped out, causing all present to freeze. In the queen's arms, the baby began to whimper and moan at the sound, while the inkwell on the desk leapt into the air before tumbling on its side, sending a tide of blackness spilling across a sheaf of papers. Even the normally imperturbable Philippa flinched at the loud thud, glancing to the king with unusually furtive eyes. When King Radovid turned around, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes gleaming.

"I will not have my decisions questioned!" His voice trembled, although Liva could not be sure if that was entirely from rage. "I am doing what is best for this kingdom, for its people, and for you. You will marry Lord Elgis, and cement his place in our nation. You will obey my command, and you will do your duty to the Redania that has already given you so much. Is that clear?"

"But I-"

"ENOUGH!"

The bark was so sharp, so harsh, that the young prince began to wail in fear. The queen curled over him, shushing his weeping with a few gentle sounds. Liva quailed back as her father turned the full wrath of his stare on her.

The princess looked from her father, to the queen, and finally to the sorceress, her heart sinking in her breast. The step-mother who hated her, the father who would not listen, and the last woman she thought she could trust in the whole wide world. All standing against her. All conspiring behind her back. She had nothing left, and there would be no reasoning with any of them.

A claustrophobic pressure rose in her skull, her lungs tightening. She looked to her father once more. Unable to meet his furious gaze, she glanced behind him, to the windows and the sky beyond. The dark blue of the night was invitingly open, promising freedom. Just over her father's shoulder, the moon was bright, fat, and full.

Outside. She needed to get outside. She couldn't breathe. With a sudden burst of speed, the princess spun on her heel, dashing for the door. She scrabbled at the latch for a frantic moment before wrenching the door open and scurrying through.

"Liva-!" Her father's voice echoed after her, commanding, controlling. She didn't listen, couldn't listen.

"Your grace, perhaps it would be best to let her go for now." Philippa's calming words were somehow even louder than the king's. An aura of calm seeping from every syllable. "She needs time to process the situation. I assure you, she will understand in time. I will speak with her in the morning."

The queen said something in response to this, but her bitter words were quickly lost on the fleeing princess, hurrying down the old stone hallways as quickly as her delicate silk slippers would permit her. Dizziness filled her head as a storm of thoughts assailed her. Her step-mother, hateful, bitter, eager to be rid of her. Her father, distant and uncaring, selling her off like livestock. Philippa, the one person she thought she could trust, now manipulating her life to fit one of her grand schemes. The scornful faces of the nobles in her father's court, the laughter of the common folk, the hungry gleam in Lord Elgis' eyes, it all flooded her mind, a whirl of information that she was drowning in.

Emotions boiled in her chest, sadness, fear. Underneath it all, deep, primal fury boiled. She just wanted to tear something apart, vent her frustrations in some vicious, physical way. She could feel it, deep in the pit of her belly, building, rising. The more she thought, the more intensely the need gripped her, until her throat felt tight, her lungs difficult to expand.

She staggered into her chambers, making straight for the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. Cool air brushed at her flesh, but did nothing to quell the fierce heat that burned inside her as she leaned heavily on the stonework . Sweat beaded on her skin while she continued to gasp for breath. She glanced around the moonlit courtyard before her, looking to the rest of the palace, the gardens, the stables. The stables, where that gift from Elgis waited.

The pain hit her suddenly, a wrenching, powerful ache that filled her entire body. Every muscle in her arms and legs rebelled against her commands, causing her to sag to her knees. She gasped for air, but none would flow down her throat, her lungs paralysed. An intense itch spread across her skin, fire and ice fighting for prominence in her flesh. She wanted to scream, but nothing could escape from her mouth.

Her vision swam as the pain rose to new heights, surpassing anything she had experienced before. Consciousness began to flee her mind, blackness rising as her ears filled with a sickening grinding noise, the sounds of snapping bones and tearing tendons. Just before unconsciousness fully claimed her, the princess imagined she heard something truly terrifying- the howling of a fearsome, dread beast. Close by, in the stables of the palace, the horses screamed and brayed fearfully in response. After that, Liva knew nothing, heard nothing, her mind slipping into deep blackness.

~o~0~o~

Pain and stiffness filled Liva's limbs, as though she'd been run through the most rigorous training drills the previous day. Every muscle in her body bunched up in tight knots. She groaned, turning over in her bed, burying her face in the silk sheets. Her bare feet kicked at the heavy blanket as she fought the rising tide of wakefulness in her mind.

Pale light from the rising dawn pierced her eyelids, in spite of her efforts to escape it, while somewhere close by a bird could be heard singing merrily. A gentle breeze whispered through her open window, filling her nostrils with the scents of blooming flowers in the gardens, baking bread in the palace kitchens, the metallic tang of drying blood...

The princess' eyes snapped open as memories clamoured for attention, flooding back into her mind at great speed. The final moments she could recall from the previous night confronted her again, the pain, the fear, the confusion. Her hands felt strange, sticky, and there was a hideous, cloying taste on her tongue.

Liva sat bolt upright in her bed, growing horror seizing her as she beheld the blood-stained sheets. The fine silks slipped away to reveal her bare body, only a few ragged tatters of her dress remaining. Her pale skin was spattered with countless droplets of scarlet, her arms coated to the elbows in crimson, still sticky and warm. Every movement the Princess made left bloody hand-prints on the silk.

Liva could feel her pulse quickening, her breathing swift as panic threatened to swallow her. She scrambled from the bed, wishing to escape the gory mess. The strange taste on her lips overrode all other thoughts as, with a sickening knot tying itself in her belly, the princess rushed over to the dressing table where she had so many times sat while servants brushed her hair and applied makeup to prepare her for a day at court. Now, though, she wasn't interested in the hairpieces, or the colourful paints and powders, but only the looking glass that stood proudly in the centre of the display.

The reflection that appeared in the mirrored glass looked nothing like the Liva she had once known. Hair was matted, tangled, streaked through with mud, leaves and blood. Her makeup, once pristine, now marred her features, the black kohl that had once ringed her eyes now leaving dark, uneven rings around each eye. And there, around her mouth, a mess of red gore, still glistening. Her lips, normally the colour of rose petals, now gleamed with slick crimson.

It was blood, Liva's mind told her, even as she stared numbly at the horrific visage. There was nothing else that it could be. She could taste it, on her tongue, between her teeth, down the back of her throat. Had she been drinking it? How? Why? The questions came faster than she could consider them. With those questions, panic came charging in. She couldn't turn away from the reflection, utterly transfixed as she tried to force herself to accept that the creature in her reflection was really her.

It was a small detail, just in the corner of her vision. Behind her reflection, a tangle of red cloth was bundled on the floor. The remains of her dress. Scarlet seeped through it, creeping across the floor in a slow tide. She turned, approaching the bundle with a nauseous tangle in her belly. She knelt on the floor, pulling the scraps of cloth aside.

The frantic screams echoed far through the palace's halls, tearing through the soul of any who were within earshot. Six guards charged towards the princess' chambers, bursting through the door before their headlong charge came screeching to a halt. Curiosity filled their expressions, quickly turning to fear and revulsion as they observed the scene of carnage inside. They looked from the blood-stained bed to the splintered window frame, and finally to the princess, curled up with her knees pressed to her chest as she rocked back and forth, unable to take her eyes off the horrific sight that lay before her. There, wrapped in the scraps of torn fabric, was a severed head. Dead eyes stared blankly, filled with abject terror captured at the moment of death. An open mouth screamed silently, tongue hanging slackly behind teeth flecked with bloody foam. The severed stump of the neck was still tacky with drying blood, thickening strands of life-bearing red dribbling from the torn flesh.

The head of the horse that Elgis had gifted to her stared at Liva, silent, tortured, accusing. As its dead eyes drilled into her soul, countless questions bombarded her. How had this happened? Why her? Most importantly, what was it she had done?

~o~0~o~

The king paced back and forth in the small room, his movements uncharacteristically uncertain. Occasionally, he would glance to Liva, his eyes unreadable. Then he would resume his pacing, saying not a word. To one side, the queen sat in a chair, clutching the young prince to her breast. She'd tried to speak up several times, but the king had simply snapped a few curt words at her, and silence had returned.

The court physician fussed over Liva, poking and prodding at her with his array of strange devices. Occasionally, he would mutter under his breath, or grunt in surprise. Liva simply endured his examination, staring ahead with empty, expressionless eyes.

The sound of the door-latch creaking open broke the silence with startling suddenness. King Radovid turned to the door as Lady Philippa slipped inside, wiping her hands on a red-stained kerchief. The sorceress glanced to the king, a sigh on her lips.

"I have disposed of the… leavings, and returned the chambers to some kind of order." To Liva's relief, the sorceress avoided directly naming the grisly remains.

"And the stables?" Radovid asked sharply.

"One of the stable-boys found the rest of the remains." Philippa replied. "The scene was… somewhat similar. Although a significant number of pieces were missing."

"What kind of monster would do such a thing?!" The queen shivered, clutching her son close to her breast. "To think that such horror could happen within our own walls… this is where we sleep, Radovid! Where our son should be safest!"

"The people will talk, once the word gets out." Radovid looked pointedly to the sorceress.

"The guards have all been spoken to, and I have made sure that what they saw will go no further."

The sorceress' eyes gleamed with an almost unreadable light. Liva found herself wondering just what her 'meeting' with the guards had entailed. She was sure that their silence had been ensured by more than just a few words.

"And the stableboy?"

"Already spoken to any number of other servants in the palace." Philippa's expression was stony, as if admitting any kind of failure was almost painful for her. "Thankfully, he doesn't know anything about the princess being involved."

"It can't have been a coincidence that whoever did this used the horse Lord Elgis presented to Liva." The king mused.

"Was anyone else informed of the match?" Philippa cupped her chin, musing. "Someone who may have been opposed to it, or interested in undermining your power?"

"There are always people who would love to see me lose face." Radovid scorned. "But anyone informed of the pairing… not within these walls. Perhaps in Elgis' retinue."

"We'll need to consider every possibility." The sorceress turned her back to the king, looking to the princess. The physician looked up at her, sensing her piercing gaze. "How is she?"

"In the peak of health, all things considered." The physician stood, his old bones creaking. "Fit and healthy physically, aside from the broken fingernails. Was she in some kind of struggle last night?"

"I don't remember." Liva rocked in her chair, wrapping her arms around herself. "It all just goes black, and them I'm- I-m"

She trailed off, a shudder wracking her tiny frame.

"A clear case of hysteria." The physician nodded, glancing to the king."Perhaps an imbalance of the humors. Should I prepare the leeches, your grace?"

"That… won't be necessary." Philippa interjected, before Radovid could formulate a response. "Thank you for your time."

The sorceress gently but firmly guided the aged doctor towards the door, pausing for just a moment to mutter a few words to him, too quiet for any of the others to hear. Liva noticed a subtle twitch of the sorceress' hand, before a glassy expression crossed the physician's features. His eyes still vacant, the doctor left the room, leaving the princess, her parents, and the sorceress. All was silent for just a moment longer, before the sorceress turned to Liva's father.

"I'd like a moment with the princess, alone, your grace." Her tone was soft, but the slight inflection suggested to Liva that she was not making a request. Even so, Radovid was quick to puff out his chest.

"I think I should-"

"It will not take long, your grace." Philippa cut in smoothly. "There are things I should discuss with your daughter, woman to woman."

Radovid deflated, unable to oppose the sorceress' will. As he made to leave, the queen quickly followed him, a suspicious glower gleaming under her brow. In moments, Liva was alone with the sorceress.

Philippa crossed her arms, looking the princess up and down with a calculating stare. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, then stepped forward, Dropping into a crouch in front of Liva. In a move the young woman found surprisingly gentle, she reached up to touch the princess' cheek. She lifted the girl's head, Philippa's icy blue orbs looking into her emerald eyes for a long, quiet moment. Liva felt the sorceress' scrutiny extend far beyond simple vision, probing at her mind. After several long seconds, Liva felt like she couldn't bear the silence any longer.

"What's going to happen to me?" Her voice trembled, barely concealing a whimper of fear.

"I'm not sure yet." Philippa murmured, her examination continuing.

"I'm scared." Tears danced in the corners of Liva's eyes.

"I know, child." The sorceress' tone was surprisingly soothing. She moved her hand from the princess' cheek to her shoulder, offering a powerful squeeze. "We're going to get to the bottom of this, Liva, I promise you that. Whatever is going on, I will do whatever I must to help you and keep you safe. You can trust me on that."

Liva felt all the tension leave her body as the sorceress' words fell upon her, an aura of calm enveloping her. Satisfied, Philippa stood, giving the young princess a quick nod before turning to follow the king, leaving Liva with her thoughts.

Liva sat there for a long, quiet moment. Even with all of Lady Eilhart's reassurances, a knot of anxiety gnawed away at her. Whatever monster had slain that horse, had done those terrible things, it was still at large. The young princess couldn't help but ask herself the most terrifying questions of all. What did it want with her, where had it gone, and when would it return? The howling she had heard the night before echoed deep within her mind.


End file.
